The Rhiannon Chronicles

by Maggie Shayne

  Roland went outside behind Killian. I stood in the doorway watching as Charlotte’s young mate opened the hood of the nearest van and poked around the engine. The breeze brought the scents of pine and that unique aroma of nighttime in the forest. The stars dotted a black velvet sky. It was too beautiful here to be dangerous. And yet...

  “I disabled the GPS units,” Roxanne called, coming to stand beside me in the doorway. “I made damn sure of it.”

  But then Killian turned, holding a small electronic box in his hand. “There was a backup unit hidden in the engine.” He jogged over to the other van, opened its hood and pulled out an identical device.

  I stepped outside, down the front steps to the grassy lawn, my heart sinking. There was no doubt that we had been located. Our enemies had found us. Our pursuers were on their way, and who knew how much time we had before they would arrive?

  Our respite had been blissful, but all too brief. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “When will we have relief from this constant struggle? When, dammit?”

  Roxanne vanished into the depths of the house, then only seconds later, came back outside with several large zipper bags crammed full of items. “There’s no time to monkey around here,” she said, each word like the crack of a whip. "It's happened. They've found us. It's time for action. Trish, Charlie, Killian, take the Elevens and one of the vans and get the hell out of here.” She handed Trish several of the bags and a set of keys. “There are birth certificates and Social Security numbers for all of you in here. Driver’s licenses, even a few credit cards, all under false names. A couple of pay-as-you-go phones, as well.”

  Trish took the bags with trembling hands. She looked scared to death. “You just have these sorts of things lying around?”

  “I’ve been around the block a few times. I know what's necessary.”

  Trish nodded, then herded the Elevens into the van without even a token argument. Charlie snapped her arms around Roxy’s neck, hugging her hard. “Thank you, Gram. For everything.”

  “I love you, girl.” Roxy hugged her back, blinking hard against the moisture in her eyes that she would not allow to spill over. “Take Olive with you, all right?”

  “Yeah. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.” She gave a whistle, and the white owl came gliding silently from a nearby tree to land on Charlotte’s forearm.

  Roxanne latched onto Killian and hugged him, as well. “Be smart. Ditch that van and get another vehicle just as fast as you can.”

  "I will," Killian said, then as he turned Lucas clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Give me those GPSs units, and I’ll lead the Crows away from you.”

  “Smart thinking,” Roxanne said. “Take the car from the garage, Lucas. The keys are in it and there’s a clean phone in the glove box with my number programmed in.”

  Lucas gave a firm nod and headed for the garage attached to one side of the log cabin. I heard him opening the overhead door, and shifted my focus to Nikki, who'd come to stand close to my side. She was terrified. I could feel her fear emanating from her little body in waves.

  Gareth and Ramses stood close to her, and all three were staring at the Elevens, who were staring back at them from inside the van. The van started to move and Larissa, shouted “Wait!” and ran toward it. It stopped, and its side door slid opened. She climbed inside with a last look back at us, and a lingering one at Lucas, who was already pulling Roxanne’s sleek black Lincoln out of the garage.

  Nikki smiled very slightly, lifted a hand and waved goodbye as the van's side door closed and then it sped away. The Lincoln took off as well, leaving a trail of dust illuminated by red taillights, before the night closed in behind them.

  Roxanne turned to Nikki and asked, “How close are they, child?”

  “I don’t know. I only felt them for a second.”

  “Close,” I said, sensing the humans at last as my stomach knotted. And then suddenly, far too rapidly, the sense of them became immediate and I realized they were not arriving by land, but by air. “They're here!”

  My answer was punctuated by the sounds of helicopter blades beating the dark skies above us as they came swooping in low over the cabin and hovered over the front lawn. And before I could even guess at her intent, Nikki dashed off at a dead run for the forest, Pandora speeding behind her.

  “I’ll get her,” Roland shouted. “Get the others the hell out of here.” And then he was gone, too.

  Grabbing the boys, Roxy and I dashed through the cabin’s door while dust and dirt whipped the air, driven by those blades as the choppers landed. Christian slammed the door behind us and threw the locks. The fire was still snapping happily in its grate The board game still lay on the floor. The bowl of potato chips, too.

  I turned to Roxanne. “Is there an escape route?”

  “Have we met?” She took off at a jog, leading us upstairs at a brisk pace, down the hall and into the rear-most bedroom. She opened the bedroom window and pointed at the cord beyond. I stuck my head out and saw the line that was attached from the highest peak of the cabin, angling sharply downward over an entire mountainside, ending, I couldn't even guess where.

  As Roxanne started gathering hardware from a closet, a man’s voice came to us on a bullhorn–as if vampires couldn’t have heard him even if he’d whispered. Idiot. “We have you surrounded." They did not. No one had gone to the rear of the house yet. But even now they must be beating the woods in search of my precious Nikki. And my beloved Roland would not leave her, not if it cost his life.

  "Come out now and no harm will come to you.”

  Roland’s voice came to my mind. Use The Glamourie, he said, and he said it fiercely. Cloak yourselves and go if you can.

  We can. Roxanne has an escape route, a cable by which we can apparently glide down the mountainside behind the cabin. But what are you saying, Roland? My chest was near to bursting with emotion. What about Nikki?

  She’s climbed a tree around back. Grab her on your way. There’s not much time.

  Never! I will not leave you!

  I looked out the rear-facing window then shoved everyone aside as I saw armed troops sneaking around behind the house. We were truly surrounded now.

  You have to go with them, Rhiannon. The Glamourie—you have to be with them, hold the spell over them powerfully enough. Get them out of here.

  I can cast it over them from here.

  And if you fall the spell falls with you, and they’re found. Captured.

  Gareth tugged at my skirt. I looked down into the terrified pools of his eyes. The first sign of emotion from the child was ice cold fear. “I don’t want to go back in the cage,” he said as tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Don’t let them take us back.”

  My own eyes welled, and my heart felt as if it were being sliced by razors. I love you, Roland, I told him. I love you!

  And I you. Forever, Rhiannon. Then I felt him come nearer and dared to peer out the window. He dashed out of the woods directly behind the cabin, moving far faster than humans could move, but not fast enough to be invisible to them. Even with his missing leg, I knew he could move faster. Using a tree limb as a crutch, he ran across the lawn. He was trying to clear a path for us.

  The Crows shouldered their weapons and opened fire as he raced unevenly around the house toward the woods on the other side. And his plan worked. They stampeded after him with blood in their eyes, and we had a chance to escape.

  I had no choice but to take it.

  * * *

  Roland blocked his mind as forcefully as he could from Rhiannon’s just before he was hit by a bullet, right in his one remaining leg. He tumbled and rolled for several yards, momentum carrying him. He came to a stop near the edge of the front lawn. Twenty men formed a living barricade around him. Behind them two helicopters rested, their propellers still whipping autumn leaves and dust into the air. Birds and wildlife had long since scattered. Roland remained prone for just a moment. He needed to give Rhiannon time to get away. He
used those seconds to reinforce the barricades blocking his mind from hers. It was not an easy thing to accomplish. She was his soul. To block her from his mind felt obscene. But he needed her to focus on getting herself and the children to safety. Not on the vengeance that would burn through her like hellfire if she sensed that he had been shot.

  A man in the center of the Crows raised his bullhorn. “Put your hands up and get to your feet. Slowly!”

  Slowly would not be a problem. “The bullhorn is unnecessary,” he said, taking his time to get up onto one wounded leg and one prosthetic, worrying about the slow but steady pulse of blood coming from the fresh bullet hole. “I could hear you if you whispered.”

  “Come forward, vampire.”

  He nodded, and took another step, and then another. He tried to feel for Rhiannon without letting her in, but sensed only anguish, heartache, and grief.

  As he moved nearer, the armed men kept their rifles trained on him. A few of the weapons were different from the others, and he recognized them as the sort that fired those tranquilizer darts with which he was all too familiar. Only a few, though. Most of them seemed to be the same high-powered weapons that they used in combat. He was familiar with those, as well.

  “I am not going to resist.” He moved another few steps forward, then stopped with ten feet still remaining between him and the Crows. Then he knelt and put his hands on the back of his head. “You have me. I’m tired of running.”

  Two men rushed forward, one keeping his rifle pointed at Roland’s head, while the other shouldered his and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Their metal—titanium, Roland thought—was cold against his wrist, and the man squeezed it too tightly. Then he pulled Roland’s arms downward, behind his back, and snapped a cuff around the other wrist.

  Only when he was cuffed did the leader come forward. He wore black fatigues like the rest, but his were decorated with colorful patches, one of which bore his name. Patterson. “Where are the others?”

  Roland memorized his face, which was large and long and very angular. Square jaw, prominent brow ridge, ice blue eyes and brown hair cut to within a half inch of his scalp. He memorized Patterson’s energy, as well. It was dark, but sparking with tiny ignitions, firing off randomly, many at the same time. It was a violent energy, and perhaps not an entirely sane one.

  “I asked you a question, vampire. Where are the others?”

  “There are no others. I’m alone here. Honestly, I never expected you would find me all the way out here in the middle of—

  Patterson’s rifle butt connected with Roland’s chin, sending him backwards onto the ground. Instinct told him to rub the pain away, but of course, he couldn’t move his hands.

  “Fine,” Patterson said. “You don’t want to tell us who’s inside, and we’re clearly not going to walk in there to be ambushed by a horde of blood drinkers.”

  As Roland got himself upright again, Patterson said, “Burn it.”

  Roland’s stomach knotted up. Please be gone, he thought. Please be as far from here as you can possibly be.

  “On your feet, vampire.”

  Roland got up onto one knee, then awkwardly all the way upright again. He wouldn’t fight. He would do nothing to further anger these men. Not until he was sure Rhiannon and the children were safe. He heard small explosions and breaking glass as men fired incendiary rounds through one window after another. Twisting his head around, Roland saw flames erupting inside.

  And then Patterson jerked his shoulder. “Face front, vampire. Get moving. We’ve got plans for you.”

  Looking ahead of him at the smaller of the two helicopters, Roland barely restrained himself from moaning out loud. It had no doors, just openings. Apparently that was going to be his conveyance.

  But then a truck rumbled up behind it, large and green. Obviously military. It stopped, and its passenger door opened. A woman stepped out of the rig. She was not wearing a uniform nor the familiar black fatigues of DPI muscle, but rather a white coat such as a doctor would wear, hanging unbuttoned over black trousers that sat higher at the waist than was currently fashionable. They seemed to strain at the seems to contain her substantial backside. She was a middle-aged mortal, perhaps forty-five or fifty human years in age, with chin-length blond hair which she wore parted deeply to one side.

  She walked right up to him, looked him up and down, and said, “You’re Roland de Courtemanche, aren’t you? What happened to your leg?”

  “I lost one to a shark. The other was just recently shot.”

  She frowned, her gaze shifting from the prosthetic leg to the bleeding one, and then taking on a hint of alarm. Quickly she removed the thin, patent leather belt from her high-waisted trousers, and kneeling, wrapped it around his thigh and pulled it so tight a grunt of pain escaped him. She watched the wound, and when she seemed assured the bleeding had stopped, she nodded and turned to Patterson. “This is better than I’d hoped for.”

  “I don’t see how. The others apparently got away.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We have all we need right here.” Then she took a syringe from her coat pocket. “I’m going to have to tranquilize you for the flight.”

  “Thank you,” Roland said. “I was not looking forward to riding in that contraption.”

  She blinked, perhaps surprised by his calm, even polite tones. “That’s not your ride. We have a small plane waiting.” Then she sank the needle into his arm, right through his shirtsleeve, and dizziness flooded through him at once.

  “Get him into the truck,” she instructed, and some soldiers took him by his arms, one on each side, and mostly dragged him toward the waiting truck.

  Roland didn’t fight them, and as he was carried toward the vehicle he was able see the flaming cabin. Heat seared his face, acrid smoke burned his nostrils. The flames crackled and roared as they devoured Roxanne’s woodland haven.

  Rhiannon was safe. She had to be safe. Patterson said the others got away, and he’d sensed no outcry of pain, no heavy shadow of death, no crippling feeling of loss.

  His eyelids dropped heavily as the men heaved him up and into the back of the truck.

  “Ride up front, Dr. Bouchard,” Patterson said. “I don’t trust him.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Colonel, but I prefer to ride with the subject.”

  “I don’t rightly care what you prefer. You are essential personnel, the only person besides me who even knows about this project. I can’t complete it without you. So get in the front like I told you. I’ll meet you at the field.”

  Roland felt the two of them walking away. The last words he heard were the woman’s as she muttered, “It’s a real shame about the cabin. Must’ve been a beauty.”

  Then a door closed, and Roland felt the truck lurch into motion.

  Chapter Four

  The instant the Crows cleared the back lawn, I cast The Glamourie. I cast it beautifully, despite my broken and bleeding heart. Roxanne handed out little devices that snapped over the zip line, with wheels to roll over the cord and handles to grip, and two by two, we went down. First Christian, with little Gareth wrapped around him like a spider monkey. Then Roxanne with Ramses. I left last of all, crying out to Nikki as I did, I’m coming for you, darling.

  Hurry, was her only reply.

  But it was enough to give me a bearing on her location. The tallest pine tree in sight. As soon as we sped into the woods I let the spell falter, so Nikki would be able to see me. As I sped closer I called to her mentally, Can you jump to me, Nikki?

  She jumped, but too soon, and the poor little thing was clinging to the cable in front of me as I sped toward her.

  On my word, let go. I will catch you. If I hit her at this speed, I would likely tear her little fingers from her hands, or at least skin them where they gripped the cable. Now!

  She closed her eyes and released her hands just as I hit her, and I clung to the handle one handed, wrapping her tight to my body with the other.

  Her arms locked around my ne
ck, and I quickly cast the spell again to make us all invisible. Aloud I dared a single shout and hoped it wasn’t loud enough for the Crows to hear. “Pandora, come!”

  I caught a glimpse of her then, a darker shadow in the night. She raced along below us, and I expanded the glamour to include her.

  We soared through the night, invisible, soundless, undetected by those mortal beasts. I cast my spell over the cord and hardware, so the Crows wouldn’t even see them for as long as the magic held. I focused with all my strength on holding the spell, despite my grief and fear for my beloved.

  As we flew, I sought Roland’s mind with mine, tried to feel what was happening to him, but he had closed me out. And that hurt nearly as much as the rest. But his motives were clear, and they were true. He wanted my attention on protecting the children. He loved them as much as I.

  The line Roxy had rigged wound itself ingeniously among the trees without smashing us into their trunks or their limbs even once. It seemed we went on forever, and every second took me further away from my love.

  And then suddenly, the line leveled off so that we slowed and eventually, stopped with ten feet between us and the ground. I let go, as did the others. The soft, grassy ground welcomed us and smelled of dying pine, its sappy resin, autumn wildflowers, and water. I felt as if I had left my very soul behind.

  Roxanne sprang up onto her feet, ran to a post, and hit a button. There was a mechanical whir. I realized she’d activated a winch that was rapidly rolling up the zip line after apparently detaching it from the house. Brilliant.

  Nikki tugged on my arm. “Not another boat,” she said. “I don’t like boats.”

  I looked where she was pointing. There was a lake before us, though my attention had still been on what lay behind. Bobbing serenely on the water was a bright yellow airplane with pontoons instead of wheels. “That’s not a boat, little one. It’s an airplane. It flies through the sky.”